


the best remedy

by mako_lies (wingeddserpent)



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Sick Character, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-30
Updated: 2017-12-30
Packaged: 2019-02-23 20:31:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 779
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13198002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wingeddserpent/pseuds/mako_lies
Summary: Ignis can keep saying he's not sick all he wants, but Noctis knows better.





	the best remedy

**Author's Note:**

  * For [serenbach](https://archiveofourown.org/users/serenbach/gifts).



> Sorry this took me so long, and I hope you enjoy it :)

“I am _not_ sick,” Ignis complains after he finishes his third round of coughing since Noctis arrived at Ignis’s apartment ten minutes ago.

Noctis leans in the doorway, taking in the sight of his basically bedridden boyfriend. Hair slicked down with sweat, bright fever flush, glassy eyes… And most worrying of all, no glasses. “Yeah, Specs? So if I take your temperature now, it’d be totally normal, right?”

Glistening with sweat, Ignis says, “Naturally.” He pauses to cough delicately into his blanket cocoon. “You will find that my temperature is well within the parameters of acceptable human temperatures.”

He always pulls out the dictionary vocab when he’s sick. Noctis pulls out the thermometer. “If you say so. Open up, Iggy.”

Wouldn’t you know it? 38.7 degrees. He shows the number to Ignis, who huffs but of course it becomes a wet cough. Noctis rubs Ignis’s back over the blankets. “See? Sick as a dog.”

“I’m _not_ ,” says Ignis predictably. He’s always been like this. _Noct, I’m supposed to take care of you. I’m not sick…_ “I’m going to get up now and fix dinner.”

“Right.” Noctis bites back a laugh.

Ignis doesn’t move from underneath his blanket, curled up on his side protectively. Noctis knows he shouldn’t think it’s cute, but it’s rare that Ignis slows down enough for Noctis to really look at him. Even better that Ignis trusts him enough now to not just send Noctis away immediately, like he had when they were kids. He sits on the bed beside Ignis and combs fingers through his soft, ungelled hair. “What can I get you, Iggy?” He doesn’t necessarily expect an answer, but wouldn’t it be incredible if he got one?

“Nothing. But what would you like for dinner?” he asks, still not moving.

Typical Ignis. Well, Noctis is going take care of him whether he likes it or not. “I’m thinking medicine, water, and more blankets. How about it, Iggy?”

Ignis draws a sharp breath to argue because seriously, he’s the most stubborn person Noctis knows, but it turns into violent coughing that basically punches out of him. Noctis rubs his tense back even more carefully. “Yep. Blankets and medicine and hydration for you. Prom said he was gonna bring some chicken soup for you once he finishes work. You just let me take care of you for once, okay?”

When Noctis returns with a thick, fuzzy blanket from the linen closet, cold medicine, and a pitcher of water—luckily he’s not clumsy like Prompto—Ignis has scooted to the edge of the bed. Sitting at the foot of it, still all wrapped up like a burrito. His breathing is heavy. “Noct…?” He blinks up at him.

“You really were gonna go make dinner, huh? Gotta hand it to you, Specs, you never give up. But come on—you always say the best thing for a cold is sleep.”

He sets the water and medicine on the bedside table as Ignis grumbles about using his own words against him. Noct holds a corner of the blanket in each hand, spreading it out, and then he comes up behind Iggy and wraps him up—both in the blanket and in a bear hug from behind. Then he pulls himself and Iggy back to the headboard, so that Noctis’s back is against it, and Ignis’s back is resting against Noctis’s chest. Finally—finally!—Ignis relaxes into the warmth.

“Medicine and water next,” Noctis murmurs in his ear.

By some miracle, he gets Ignis drugged up and watered without much fuss. Ignis catches Noctis’s hand in one of his. “You should turn in for the night. I wouldn’t want you to catch this.”

“So you finally admit that you’re sick!” Noctis laughs.

“You’re insufferable,” Ignis rasps, but Noctis can hear the hint of fondness.

“Yeah. But you love me.”

“I do.” Ignis shifts into a more comfortable position against Noctis, preventing Noctis from moving even as he tries to convince him to leave. It’s kind of adorable. Like a cat. “Enough that I don’t want you to become ill on my account.”

Noctis nuzzles his face into Ignis’s heated shoulder. “Well, Iggy, just gonna have to accept that I’m not leaving. Try and get some sleep, okay? I’ll be here.”

Once they get into a more comfortable position laying instead of sitting, Ignis does drift off. Finally. Noctis can only sit and pet his hair for a long while. Even if he gets sick later, getting to take care of Iggy—it’ll have been worth it.

 

And it still is worth it three days later, when Ignis stands over him imperiously, and says, “I told you so.”


End file.
